Three quarters of a century...

Mother's birthday today - she has reached the grand old age of 75, a golden age where you can simply say "I'm old" and get away with all manner of silliness, which she does, including saying the most outrageous things under the guise of "speaking her mind". We ate and drank and passed her some presents, which she approved of. Then we had a slow dawdle back through the city centre, returning to the st shopping outlet. A few days on and more things have opened and it seemed, well, a bit better than the first time around. Gangs of men were putting some plant life in place to make this cavernous glass-covered space look a bit more welcoming, although they're up against it. I also came away terribly impressed by the footwear available for cuddly toys in Build-A-Bear - if only they'd been available in a size nine. Explaining Hull's new transport interchange to mother was a fraught affair but she got on the right bus in the end, bag of birthday goodies and some treats for her yappy little dog Alfie in tow.

Picked up the script then rather swiftly put it back down again, my creativity nullified by one of the intermittent black clouds of doom that follow me around. The catalyst to further work will, I'm certain, be my thrilling lifeboat ride on Saturday morning, which I've started looking forward to enormously. I have to check tomorrow if I can take some camera equipment with me - if so I'll share the old seasick ride with you if you're interested. I hope you're all well.

Tags: On A Shout, Hull, mum